


anew, anew, anew

by keptein



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-12-31 22:26:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12142440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keptein/pseuds/keptein
Summary: Koutarou meets a familiar face at a speed-dating course; they spend the night wandering Tokyo and relearning each other.





	anew, anew, anew

**Author's Note:**

  * For [benetnash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/benetnash/gifts).



> FOR LEED AND ALSO BOKUTO'S BIRTHDAY. !!!! happy birthday you beautiful man. thank you [leed](http://benetnash.tumblr.com) for asking for this, it's been a lot of fun to write! thank you to becky and tawni for betaing and being stars.

Coming into it, Koutarou already knew this was a bad idea. “There will be a lot of foreigners there,” Izawa had told Koutarou, and he wasn't wrong - within a few minutes at the restaurant, Koutarou had spotted about five white men in the small group. “But it'll be fun! Speed dating! They do it all the time in Europe, you could find a really hot Spanish guy or something. Italian.”

So far, Koutarou hadn't seen anyone with dark, curly hair and olive skin, but he couldn't see many of the other guests from where he was loitering awkwardly in the corner. The locale was dimly lit, garish paper lanterns hung around the room, casting the crowd into greens and reds. Even though it was a restaurant, it was clearly a fancy kind, with a lot of high, small tables for famous people to stand by and drink champagne. There were ten, maybe fifteen of them, and everyone was standing around as awkwardly as Koutarou, chatting aimlessly with the awareness that they'd be pulled away any minute to start the event.

“Gentlemen!” An American woman stepped into the middle of the room, speaking in fluent Japanese before repeating herself in English. “Please, if you'll all stand at a table - two to a table, please… does everyone have their paper? Good, good. So, feel free to introduce yourself and chat to your first possible partner for five minutes, and when the timer goes, everyone moves one to the left! I know we have some language barriers here tonight, but there's nothing that love can't conquer - and we're happy to announce that six couples who met here have already been engaged! Have fun, everyone!” She said it again in English, the watery syllables floating mostly unregistered in Koutarou’s ears as he moved up to a table with a plain-looking Japanese man, giving him a smile.

“Hello,” the man said, smiling back. “This is interesting, isn't it? I'm Touda.”

“Nice to meet you! I'm Bokuto.” Koutarou leaned against the table, looking around. “Are you okay with chatting with me for a whole five minutes?”

Touda laughed, eyes lingering on Koutarou’s arms. “I'm sure we can find something to talk about.”

Koutarou beamed, falling quiet as the American lady made the last of her announcements, then started the first five minutes. “So, Touda-san, what do you do?”

“I'm a teacher,” Touda replied after a moment, eyes flitting. “What do you do, Bokuto-san?”

“I'm a teacher too! Physical education - I coach a volleyball team.”

“Oh,” Touda said slowly, shifting his weight as if disappointed. “I'm an English teacher. I want to go to America.”

Koutarou looked around the room and nodded at a few of the American guys, lips quirked. “That's why you're here, then?”

Touda laughed, embarrassed. “Part of it,” he admitted. “Why are you here?”

Koutarou shrugged. “Don't have anything better to do. Might as well try and meet people, right?”

“I suppose so,” Touda hummed, cocking his head and waiting for Koutarou to continue.

“It's almost like a mixer. Just quicker, right? Five minutes and all. It's very Western.”

Touda laughed again, shifting to reach into his pocket. He was cute when he laughed, but he still looked wholly unremarkable - Koutarou felt bad, but he was already looking forward to the next five minutes. “Yeah,” he said. “I like getting to know people. Maybe I could get your email?”

“Uh, sure,” Koutarou replied, scratching his email down on the piece of paper Touda offered him, misspelling it just enough that he could blame it on his terrible penmanship. “There!”

“I look forward to seeing you again,” Touda said as the buzzer went, smiling at him, and Koutarou smiled back. He didn't seem like a bad dude, but  _ really  _ not Koutarou’s type, scrawny and timid as he was. Like he'd said, he was just here for some fun - and maybe someone to go home with at the end of the night.

They all moved to the left after a moment of confusion, helped by the American woman. In the background, some cheesy music was playing, low enough that it didn’t interfere with any conversations, but loud enough that there were no awkward silences. Koutarou didn’t recognise the Western romantic bop, and it sounded like something from the previous century, definitely unlike anything that was on the English radio channels at the moment.

“Hello,” Koutarou’s next date for the five minutes said in English. He gave a small smile. “English okay?”

“Yes,” Koutarou replied, a little stilted.

“I’m here for a job interview,” the man said, and Koutarou felt like he was too for the rest of their speed date. The guy was formal, asking a lot about Koutarou’s background, awkward as he tried to make jokes in Japanese, and generally about as interesting as Koutarou’s shoe. He didn’t ask for Koutarou’s number, and Koutarou didn’t give it to him.

The next guy was nicer, but there was no spark, and they chatted about the weather for five minutes before Koutarou moved on. The one after that was reasonably interesting - they had something in common, at least, even though it was just having been in sports clubs in high school - but Koutarou was still getting disheartened, shoulders slumping as he moved to the next chair. He snuck a glance at the time on his phone, in what he hoped was a discreet manner. Sure, there were cute guys here, and he’d gotten a couple of numbers and all, but even though he’d just gone for kicks, he’d still hoped that maybe there would be someone  _ special _ . After all, didn’t the lady say this place had six marriages to their name? Koutarou didn’t think he was asking for much. All he wanted was a fraction of that, and he was a romantic at heart…

Thoughts of romance and summer loving swirled around Koutarou as he settled down in his new chair, not recognising his new date until the man spoke, tone rising in shock.  _ “Bokuto?” _

Koutarou blinked, eyebrows rising high. “Holy shit,” he said when he realised who was on the other side of the table. “Kuroo!” And it was - a little taller, a little broader, with a few more lines on his face and shorter hair, but it was  _ definitely _ Kuroo. Koutarou laughed, leaning forward across the table to clasp his shoulder through his flannel. “Holy shit! It’s been ages!”

“Uh… yeah,” Kuroo said, looking at him with wide eyes. His shoulder was firm under Koutarou’s hand, and Koutarou took a moment to be pleased at the observation before pulling his hand back. “It has.”

“How have you been? Whoa! Last time we spoke you were still getting your degree, right? Bio med? Did that work out for you?”

“Kinda,” Kuroo said, shrugging one shoulder as he looked away. “I’m good.”

“I’m good, too! I coach a volleyball team now. Wild, right? I guess that’s what you gotta do when the national team doesn’t want you.”

“I heard you were on it for a few years,” Kuroo replied mildly, and Koutarou laughed, scratching his neck.

“Well, yeah… I did my time, y’know. Had a good run and all that.”

Kuroo’s lips quirked. His smile was smaller than it had been in high school, Koutarou realised, and he was a little sad about it, although he couldn’t quite pinpoint why. People changed, after all. 

“Are you still hanging out with any of the folks? Yaku? Kenma? I still see Akaashi a bunch, but that’s just ‘cause they can’t get rid of me. I’m like a sponge.” Koutarou sucked in air through his teeth, and Kuroo laughed.

“You mean a leech? Sponges don’t stick to things.”

“Oh, right,” Koutarou said, waving a hand. “Yeah, that. Same difference.”

“Not really,” Kuroo replied, smiling despite himself - and then he seemed to catch himself in it, smile fading away as he looked around. “Are you here for anything in particular?”

“Uh…” Koutarou hesitated. “No, just thought I’d check it out,” he said finally. For some reason, telling Kuroo that he was bored and wanting a one night stand didn’t sit right with him at all. “You?”

“No,” Kuroo said. Koutarou looked at him, but he didn’t elaborate, still looking around.

“It’s nice to see you!”

“Yeah.”

“What do you do now? Did I ask that already? Sorry, I’m just real happy to see you.”

“You didn’t,” Kuroo said awkwardly, the tone of his voice making Koutarou anxiously jiggle his leg under the table. “I work at a pharmacy.”

“Oh… hey, that’s pretty cool! Do you like it?”

“Sometimes.”

“Where is it?”

“It’s the one on Izumi Garden, by Roppongi.”

“Cool, cool, cool,” Koutarou said. “I’m a teacher! And I coach a volleyball team! Wait, I definitely said that already. Sorry. I really like the kids, though. I'm hoping to see them to Nationals this year. You should come see us!”

“Maybe.”

“I'll get you tickets. Front row.”

“Sounds nice.” Kuroo gave him a small smile, and Koutarou was just about to speak again when the buzzer went and Kuroo slipped away, moving to the left.

Koutarou looked after him, baffled.

“Hi,” his new date said, giving him a smile that Koutarou caught out of the corner of his eye.

“Hey,” Koutarou said absently, watching Kuroo have a conversation with a complete stranger. “Nice to meet you.”

Kuroo smiled across the table, flashing his white teeth. Koutarou’s brow furrowed. Why hadn't he gotten any smiles like that? That was unfair. Kuroo should've smiled twice as wide to see him, an old friend, as he did to some random guy who probably couldn't even tell him his favourite colour.

That is, if it hadn't changed since he had last seen Kuroo, which it may very well have. He wasn't wearing any red, after all. Not as far as Koutarou could see, anyway, even when he leaned over the table to try and catch a glimpse of Kuroo’s shoes.

“- okay?” asked the guy across the table from him. Koutarou blinked, swivelling around to meet his gaze.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I asked if you were okay,” the guy said. “You seem distracted.”

“Ah - well, it's just, it's a strange format, you know, I keep jumping around from person to person and my head’s like, ah..! What's happening!”

“Right,” the guy said, looking extremely unimpressed. Well, it didn't matter. It wasn't like Koutarou was ever going to see him again.

Koutarou smiled widely at him until the bell went. The guy didn’t smile back.

The man after that was boring, and the one after that didn’t speak a lick of Japanese and clearly didn’t want to learn, and the one after that just made Koutarou sad. He looked ahead to try to get an idea of how many of these sessions he would have to suffer through until the American lady would let them go - he’d completely given up on finding someone to go home with, all that he could think of right now was the fact that Kuroo was here. There had to be a way for him to convince Kuroo to hang out with him after this. Unless Kuroo found someone to go home with? Well, in a few days, then. Get his number or something. Platonically, of course, unless Kuroo didn’t want it to be platonic. He had become even handsomer than he was in school, so maybe Koutarou should try…

Or maybe that was the road to disaster. Huh. Contemplating these things was infinitely more fun than interacting with the sack of potatoes currently trying to chat him up, so he mused on it for a while while offering belated and absentminded answers to his partner’s questions. Asking Kuroo out - a good idea, yes or no? How would Akaashi go about it? They would list the pros first. So: the pros were, he got to date Kuroo, at least for a little bit. Maybe kiss him? That was a big pro. And if Kuroo said no, at least he could tell himself that he’d tried. The cons… it could make things weird. Things were already kind of weird, so it could make them even worse. Although Kuroo was clearly interested in dudes, or he wouldn’t be here. That didn’t mean he was interested in  _ Koutarou, _ though. Even though he should be - Koutarou was a catch! But not to everyone’s tastes, as he had learned.

Was he to Kuroo’s tastes? That was the real question, wasn't it. And only one person could answer it.

The bell went again. Koutarou shouldered his way through the queue so he ended up in front of Kuroo again, smacking his palms against the tall table between them. Kuroo’s eyes went wide as he stared. “I don't think you're allowed to do that -”

“It's fine,” Koutarou said with a wave. The guys around them were falling into place, moving one over to replace the space Koutarou had left and accommodate where he had jumped back in.

Kuroo looked at him. Koutarou realised that he maybe should've waited another round until he did this, so he could've prepared a cool speech of some kind. Ah, well - too late now.

“Hi again,” Koutarou said casually. “Long time no see.”

Kuroo stared for another moment until he started laughing - softly at first, then he threw his head back and laughed earnestly, just like the cackle Koutarou remembered.

Koutarou stared, flabbergasted, as Kuroo laughed so hard he struggled to breathe. After a moment, he started laughing too, unsure what the joke was but so overjoyed by the sight that he had to join in.

Kuroo calmed down slowly, still chuckling a little and wiping at the corners of his eyes. Koutarou grinned at him. “Man, you’re still the worst,” he said with a smile, and Koutarou gasped, theatrically outraged.

“The heck’s that supposed to mean, huh?”

“It means you’re still the worst.”

Koutarou narrowed his eyes and Kuroo laughed again, more restrained than earlier but just as genuine. “You… butt.”

“Heck and butt - are you scared to swear around the foreigners?”

_ “No,” _ Koutarou said emphatically. “I’m not scared of anything. It’s just a habit from work, since I can’t swear around the kids.”

“Oh… right.” Kuroo looked at him thoughtfully. “You’ve kinda grown up, huh?”

“Kinda,” Koutarou agreed cheerfully.

“You must really like your job, if you're changing so much of yourself for it.”

“I don't know if giving up swearing means I'm changing myself a lot,” Koutarou protested. “I didn't swear that much when you knew me, either. And anyway - I do like it. A lot. It's like… a constant challenge, you know? Every day is different, every year is different. Some of the kids change by the hour.”

“Ah, the joys of puberty,” Kuroo said dryly. Koutarou laughed.

“Yeah. But it - it's fun. It's definitely worth it.”

Kuroo went silent for a moment. The buzzer rang and men started getting up around the restaurant, but neither of them moved.

“Do you… are you doing anything after this?” Koutarou asked. Kuroo shook his head.

“Are you?”

“No,” Koutarou replied. “Do you wanna do something?”

“Yeah.”

Koutarou grinned and pushed back his chair. “Let's go, then!”

“We can just - leave…?”

“Well, yeah,” Koutarou called over his shoulder, already halfway across the room. Kuroo stood up and followed hesitantly. “It's fine, right?”

“Ah - misters, if you could please,” the American lady started saying, so Koutarou gave her a sharp bow.

“Thank you very much for having us! I found my husband, bye,” he said and impulsively tugged on Kuroo’s sleeve, pulling him the last few meters out the door.

Once outside, in the chilly clouded night with Tokyo’s late-night patrons milling around, they looked at each other and then they were both laughing again. 

“I paid money to be there, you know,” Kuroo told Koutarou. He looked more like the person Koutarou used to know under the hazy light of the streetlamps, the new, sharp angles of his features diffused into a younger face.

“Me too.” Koutarou shrugged. “But do you really think your dream guy was in there?”

“He could have been,” Kuroo said, looking at Koutarou. Koutarou looked away, a hot flush crawling down his neck.

“Well, too bad, ‘cause you’re stuck with me.”

“Mm.”

Koutarou shifted from one foot to the other. “Anyway - are you hungry? I'm kinda hungry.”

“It's late,” Kuroo said, checking his watch. “I don't know of any good places that are open.”

“I know one nearby,” Koutarou said. Belatedly, he let go of Kuroo’s sleeve, embarrassed that it had taken him that long. “It looks dodgy, but the food is to die for. I swear.”

“Alright,” Kuroo agreed after a considering moment. “I trust you. I have work tomorrow, though, so I can't stay in with the shits all day.”

Koutarou laughed, starting to walk to the back-alley izakaya that he knew was open, his godsend on late clubbing nights. “God, remember that place by Nohebi in second year? When they held the training camp? I couldn't walk for a  _ week.” _

Kuroo grimaced. “At least we got to warn the others before anyone else got sick.”

“Wish someone had warned us,” Koutarou said gloomily. “Those were good training hours I missed. Where was your licence then? You could’ve given us the good drugs.”

“That’s not how it works,” Kuroo started, but then he laughed, giving up on the half-hearted protest. “I would’ve been too sick to remember what goes with what, anyway.”

“Well, that’s not going to happen this time! I’ll take care of you,” Koutarou promised, leading the way. “Pharma, huh? Do you deal with lots of dangerous drugs?”

“Most medication can be dangerous in the wrong contexts,” Kuroo said. “It depends on how much you take and what you take with it.”

“Eh,” Koutarou said after a moment. “So nothing cool, then.”

Kuroo laughed. “Not to you, maybe. But I think it’s pretty cool to give people the medication they need to survive and lead good lives.”

Koutarou clicked his tongue. “Classic Kuroo,” he said. “Always kinder than you seem.”

“So are you,” Kuroo countered, which stopped Koutarou short.

“You think?” he asked. Kuroo grimaced at the tone of his voice and rushed to explain. 

“Not that you’re mean, or that people think you are, but… Well, you can still come off as a little careless, right? But you’re not.”

“Hm.” Koutarou looked at Kuroo. His face was painted by the neon lights surrounding them, advertising 24-hour love hotels and convenience stores, pink and purple catching on his high cheekbones. Koutarou couldn’t read what his expression meant. “Is that good?”

“I think so,” Kuroo said softly. “I like it.”

Koutarou kept his gaze for a moment and then looked away, clearing his throat. “We’re almost there,” he said, eyes fixed on the road ahead.

“Okay.”

The izakaya was quiet, but not empty. They found a table to themselves, and Koutarou ordered two bowls of the chef’s signature tonkatsu. “I didn’t know you were interested in men,” he blurted out once the server left their table.

Kuroo’s eyes dropped from Koutarou’s, slid to the left and almost took a step back. “We haven’t seen each other in a while,” he said awkwardly. “It’s not something I’m very public about.”

“Still,” Koutarou said. He didn’t have a point, really, and certainly not an articulated one, but this felt like something he should’ve known. Should have sensed, maybe, in all the time they’d spent together.

But - again, he had to remind himself that Kuroo being interested in men did not mean he was interested in him. An acquired taste, and all that. A few stolen glances from when they’d been teenagers together, covert staring during the speed dating - that could all have been one sided.

And yet…

“Still,” Kuroo repeated. It sounded like he was agreeing. “I didn’t know you were, either.”

“It's on my Facebook.”

“Facebook,” Kuroo said, disgusted. “Who uses Facebook?”

Koutarou laughed. “True.”

There was comfortable silence for a moment, both of them relaxing into their seats. “Your family’s okay with it?” Kuroo asked.

“Ah - um, not… exactly.”

Kuroo winced, apologetic. “Sorry. That's personal stuff.”

“It's fine.” Koutarou picked up a soy sauce packet and fiddled with it idly. “I moved out and talked to someone and it did wonders, honestly.”

Kuroo laughed sharply. “Yeah, I know that feeling.”

“Is that why you're asking? Because it's not working out.”

“I haven't told them,” Kuroo said quietly. “But I don't think it'd go down very smoothly.”

“You don't have to tell them, you know,” Koutarou said, and Kuroo’s eyes snapped up to meet his. “It's no one's business but your own. And who you're dating, of course, but even then… No one’s entitled to that knowledge.”

“Bokuto,” Kuroo said after a pause. “There you go again, with the carefulness.”

Koutarou grinned and scratched his neck, sitting back to give the server space as two steaming bowls of tonkatsu dropped down onto the table. “I'll try not to make a habit of it.”

“Good.” Kuroo adjusted in his seat, long legs struggling to fit under the table, and ended up extending his leg past Koutarou’s chair. Koutarou looked down and saw that Kuroo’s pants had ridden up over the ankle, showing the maroon socks that disappeared into black loafers.

“Red socks!”

Kuroo blinked, swallowed his current mouthful and cleared his throat. “What?”

“You're - you're wearing red socks!”

“I am,” Kuroo said, guarded. “Why?”

“It's - I'm - it's still your favourite colour, right?”

“Yeah… why does that matter?”

“It means I know things about you!” Koutarou beamed at him across the table, childlike with glee at the discovery. “I still know things about you, like your birthday and your favourite colour!”

Kuroo swallowed again, though he hadn’t taken another bite. “Is yours still red, too?”

Koutarou nodded, smiling. It was one of the first things he'd told Kuroo -  _ wow, your uniforms are so cool! Red is my favourite colour, but ours have gold and that's cool too. _

“So we both still know things about each other.”

“That's good,” Koutarou said, laughing a little and chewing on his mouthful of tonkatsu while he spoke. “You seemed so different at first… I thought you were a whole other guy.”

“I've changed,” Kuroo said. “You've changed too.”

Koutarou paused to consider that, then he nodded in agreement. “Unfortunately,” he said sadly. “High school me was awesome.”

Kuroo laughed. Koutarou liked making him laugh. “I don't know,” he said, smiling, “I like this you too.”

The air in the restaurant was snug and warm, overhead lights wrapping around the pair of them with their soft glow. He looked down at the empty bowl in front of him, buzz of excitement suddenly fading into uncertainty - should he be vulnerable? Was Kuroo putting himself out there? Should he say that he liked Kuroo too? Would that reveal too much entirely? “I lied,” he said instead, quiet and a little halting. “Earlier. When I said I'm not afraid of anything.”

He lifted his gaze to see that Kuroo had cocked his head, listening.

“I - seeing you… It would suck not seeing you again after this.”

“Oh,” Kuroo said after a while. “That's…”

“Is it too much? I can take it back, we don't have to talk about it.”

“No… No, don't take it back. Definitely don't take it back.”

“Okay,” Koutarou said uncertainly. “I won't.”

Kuroo exhaled and glanced around the izakaya. “Do you wanna go?” he said. “I'll walk you home.”

Koutarou blinked. “Sure, we can go, but you don't have to -”

“I want to,” Kuroo said, breaking him off. “Let me.”

“Alright. I'll pay, then!” Koutarou stood up before Kuroo could protest, going to the counter and paying for their meal. The man behind the counter didn't ask whether it was a date, which was good, because Koutarou wouldn't have known what to respond.

When he got back to the table, Kuroo was already waiting with his jacket back on. He gave him a brief smile and they walked out together.

“You okay?” Koutarou asked.

“Yeah,” Kuroo said. He paused for a moment and shook his head, repeating it more genuinely. “Yeah. I'm fine, thank you.”

“That's good. I told you I'd take care of you, after all.”

“That you did,” Kuroo allowed, smiling. “You've been doing a good job so far.”

Koutarou beamed at him. They walked out together. The streets were even emptier now than they had been, and for a moment, Koutarou felt like he was out in the suburbs again, walking around a training camp with Kuroo after their late nights of extra practice. The air was clearer without the mass of people breathing and talking around them, and the only watchful eyes were the one or two stars that managed to shine through the city lights and pollution.

Something touched his hand, warm and dry skin against his own as Kuroo wrapped his hand loosely around Koutarou’s. After a moment, Koutarou’s fingers curled around Kuroo’s in return, swallowing tightly and keeping his gaze fixed on where they were going.

“This okay?” Kuroo asked, voice quiet. No one else could see them - the path to Koutarou’s apartment was shadowed and narrow, and avoided by those who could because of its suspicious odours - so there was no real reason for him to keep his voice down, but Koutarou understood the instinct. He felt it too.

He nodded, squeezing Kuroo’s fingers. His own hand felt small in Kuroo’s, which was unfamiliar, but… Nice. Yeah.

Nice.

“It's just on this block,” Koutarou said, reluctantly breaking the quiet. Kuroo exhaled, and it felt like he slowed down their pace, shortening his step to make the walk last longer. Maybe Koutarou was just projecting, because he wanted to make these scarce moments last as long as the night itself, maybe even longer.

“Nice building,” Kuroo said, stopping in front of it and gazing upward. He was still holding Koutarou’s hand.

“Nothing special. Do you…” Koutarou hesitated and swallowed, taking a deep breath before he continued, “do you wanna see the inside?”

Kuroo paused and squeezed his hand. “I have work,” he said finally. “In the morning. So I - shouldn't.”

“Oh,” Koutarou said softly. “Okay.”

Kuroo turned his head to look at him, and Koutarou looked back, searching his golden-brown eyes. They were alone on the street. Huddled together in the comforting night, they might as well have been the only two people left on Earth. “If I came up, I wouldn't be able to leave.”

Koutarou’s eyes widened, warmth spreading over his cheeks and down his throat. “R-right,” he stuttered, the word catching in his throat. “That would be… bad.”

“My boss would think so,” Kuroo said.

“Yeah.” Koutarou’s eyes dropped to the curve of Kuroo’s lips, fingers stroking over the soft skin of his hands. “So you shouldn't.”

“I really shouldn't,” Kuroo breathed, stepping closer.

“Do you get in trouble a lot, with your boss?” Koutarou asked, head tilting up slightly to keep his eyes locked on Kuroo’s.

“No… this would be the first time.”

“In that case,” Koutarou murmured, inhaling the warmth of Kuroo’s breath into his mouth. “I think it would be okay, right? Just this once.”

“Yeah… yeah. Just this once.”

“Mhm…” Koutarou swayed for a moment before tearing himself away with difficulty, pulling Kuroo after him into the building. Kuroo laughed and stumbled after him.

“Eager, huh?”

“Shut up,” Koutarou told him, repeatedly pressing the elevator button for his floor.

“Been a long time?” Kuroo teased, coming to hover over him as the elevator began to move.

“Waiting for you? Yeah.” Koutarou was still preoccupied with pressing he button over and over in the hope that it might make the elevator go faster, so he didn’t notice Kuroo until his arms suddenly wrapped around him, squeezing him tightly. “Ah - Kuroo?”

“You’re still so goddamned perfect,” Kuroo groaned into his shoulder. Koutarou stuttered, flushing deeply. Before he could get his bearings and react, the doors opened with a gentle ping, as if to remind them they were still technically in public.

“Kuroo,” he said softly when the arms around him didn’t immediately pull back.

“This your floor?” Kuroo asked, and only when Koutarou nodded did he let him go, stepping back so they could both walk out of the elevator.

Koutarou led him down the corridor and to his own door, unlocking it and holding it open for Kuroo to step inside. He followed and looked around, viewing his own apartment as a stranger might. It looked embarrassingly modest suddenly, small and messy and unfit for anyone over twenty-one.

“This is nice,” Kuroo commented, taking off his shoes. Koutarou couldn’t tell if he was serious or teasing again.

“It’s fine,” Koutarou said, still flushed from the hug. Kuroo turned to look at him, studying his face. Was his nervousness that apparent? He was the one who has invited Kuroo upstairs in the first place, he had no reason to struggle with it now. And yet, the nerves were still there. What if he let this chance slip between his fingers? What if he couldn’t make it memorable enough, and Kuroo decided he didn’t want to see him again? What if he was such a bad host that they couldn’t even make it to bed before Kuroo got disgusted and left? What if he was too boring, too boring by far, and Kuroo finally realised that he had nothing to offer-

“Hey,” Kuroo said suddenly, voice breaking through Koutarou’s whirlwind of anxiety. “Can I kiss you?”

Koutarou exhaled deeply, and then nodded. “Yeah,” he said after a moment.

Kuroo smiled and cupped Koutarou’s face in his hands, keeping his eyes open as he leaned in and pressed his lips against Koutarou’s. For a second or two, the kiss was gentle - then Koutarou parted his lips, and immediately he could feel the heat of Kuroo’s mouth against his, pressing closer and chasing the feeling. His eyes fell shut, sucking on that curve of Kuroo’s lip that he hadn't been able to stop staring at and stepping even closer so he could feel Kuroo’s thigh between his, and his between Kuroo’s. His hands were on Kuroo’s hips, digging in and holding him close - Kuroo’s hand was still touching his face, keeping himself in charge of the kiss without any effort, and Koutarou couldn't bring himself to mind the submission when it felt so damn good.

“Fuck,” he breathed into Kuroo’s mouth, panting a little, and Kuroo grinned without pulling away, nodding in response.

“Yeah.”

“We're really… we're really doing this?” As he spoke, his lips grazed Kuroo’s again, and he had to kiss him a second time, long and careful.

“I hope so,” Kuroo replied when they broke apart. “I’ve thought about this for a long time.”

“Me too,” Koutarou said breathlessly. The hand on his neck was like a hot band, keeping his heart from jumping up through his throat and out his mouth to confess the newfound bloom of stale, withered old feelings. “You’re - you’re really cool.”

Kuroo paused and then he laughed, just as honestly and heartily as he had earlier. Koutarou beamed in return, the tension melting away until it was just the two of them again, two normal, awkward guys who still didn’t exactly know how to act around each other after all these years. “You’re cool too,” Kuroo said, grinning. “Really cool.”

“Um, I was wondering - can we just… kiss on the couch for a while? Otherwise it can be a little embarrassing for me.”

Kuroo smiled. “So it has been a long time.”

Koutarou shrugged, unsure whether it would be more embarrassing to say that it had been, or to admit that Kuroo just got to him in a way few others did. “Kinda.”

“Me too,” Kuroo said. Koutarou looked down, stroking over Kuroo’s hip again - the fabric of his slacks was cool and soothing against Koutarou’s fingers - before he stepped over to the couch and sat down. Kuroo sat down next to him, and Koutarou wasted no time pressing their thighs together, turning into him to kiss him again.

He pressed his lips against Kuroo’s, muffling all the things he wanted to say about this, about how long he’d wanted this, how long he’d wanted Kuroo in any way, shape or form… But by the way Kuroo kissed him back, it felt like he had some idea. Their lips met again and again, and slowly Koutarou sank into the couch with Kuroo moving over him so they could keep kissing without hurting their necks, and Koutarou couldn’t imagine a better end to the night. He said as much to Kuroo, whispering it between gentle, wet noises.

Kuroo stayed silent before he kissed Koutarou again, finding his hand and squeezing it tightly. The touch told Koutarou everything he needed to know.

It wouldn’t end here; neither of them would let it. He would get to relearn Kuroo, he was sure of it. And learn things about him he never knew before.

Koutarou looked forward to every second of it.

**Author's Note:**

> check me out on [twitter](http://twitter.com/tivruskis) and [tumblr](http://tivruskis.tumblr.com)!


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